You and I Against the World
by solemnlyswearx
Summary: The night Sirius leaves for good, nothing is thrown, nothing breaks, and the front door doesn't slam shut like you've always imagined it would.


**AN**: As a side note, I'm solemnlyswear_x on MNFF, too, and I'm just double-posting some stories to here. Thanks to Fresca and ginnygirl16 for betaing.

On the night Sirius leaves for good, nothing is thrown, nothing breaks, and the front door doesn't slam shut like you've always imagined it would. Nothing echoes throughout the cavernous halls at Grimmauld Place, and your parents don't march down the stairs wearing matching expressions of disdain. Instead, there are quiet voices, veiled emotions, and an almost inaudible click of the door as he leaves – a horribly final sound that rings in your ears where you thought shouts would have. The world doesn't end or crumble down around your feet, but you know he is never coming back. You know things won't ever be the same.

You will tell yourself later that he left because of your parents, your grandparents, your great aunt who always forgot his birthday but remembered yours. You will tell yourself later that it isn't because of you – it was never because of you. You will tell yourself all of this, but you won't really believe it. You can't, actually, because some part of you will always imagine that he might have stayed if you had been willing – been strong enough – to fight with him instead of against him. You can't believe it because the last conversation you had the night he left seems to be permanently playing in your brain.

And when you think of that night, of everything you have been trying to hide underneath that Black sneer and all of your haughty words, it's damn near impossible to convince yourself that it's anything other than your fault.

"_Don't you see what they're doing to you? You're being brainwashed, for crying out loud. I don't know why I'm surprised, though. You've always done exactly what everyone's told you, and this really isn't any different. Merlin, Reg, can't you think for yourself for once? Are you really that blind?"_

(You aren't blind, thank you very much. In fact, you don't think you've ever seen yourself more clearly than in this moment. And it's not like you're going to admit it to him, but what you see makes you feel physically ill, waves of nausea ripping through you in never-ending waves.)

It's not the only fight you've had, of course. Trying to convince anyone that you two were the pinnacle of brotherly companionship would be like attempting to persuade your family that the Weasleys weren't the lowliest blood-traitors to ever walk the planet. But this time, everything is different, undeniably more permanent and more painful.

"_I can't stand idly by as they torture people. And I can't stay in this house when our parents are supportive of that, of Voldemort. I have to get out, whether you come with me or not. I have to fight back, even if you won't."_

(You flinch a little when he says the name, but you ignore it and Sirius does, too. You want to point out that you haven't joined the Death Eaters yet – and surely that counts for something – but you are running in circles that you both know are bad news. Macnair, Yaxley, Rosier. Each name is a mark against you, another coin to add to your thirty pieces of silver.)

You think that maybe the worst part of the fight is that he isn't yelling. In fact, you don't think you've ever seen him more serious. You can't begin to count all of the times he has raised his voice and threatened to hex you into oblivion, always angry and never controlled, but this time his voice is cold and hard. Each word slips like a dagger from his mouth, slicing through the space between you. And as you listen to him, you wonder if maybe the absence of shouting scares you because you sound so similar when he talks like this. It makes you wonder if you have always been this alike, despite all the attempts to deny any connection between the two of you.

"_You'll be fine with Mum and Dad. I'm sure they'll be thrilled to have me gone so they can dote on their favourite son without any sort of distraction. And, you know, feel free to tell them whatever you want about me leaving. Tell them I left cursing them both to hell, for all I care. Or, if you really want to see them angry, you can always throw in that I'm threatening to marry a Muggle. Planning to ruin the bloodline and all that."_

(What you _want_ is to ask where he'll go, whether he'll have enough money and food and clothing. You _want_ to ask if you can go, too, if you can fix everything you've always done wrong. You want to, but you don't. And damn him for not telling you anyway.)

You know, instinctively, that you will always, always remember him pausing before finally saying goodbye. The silence in the air between you is something you could never forget. It is a silence holding years of broken promises and unspoken words and everything you could have done together if you had only been a little more like him. You could have taken on the world, the two of you. At least, that's what he told you once, a long time ago. And as you're standing there, staring him down, you remember how nice you thought that sounded. Us against them.

"_Well, I guess this is it, little brother. Have a good life."_

(You nod once, trying not to think about the ironic note that touched his voice when saying 'good.' You stand, frozen to the spot same spot you've been in for the past five minutes, and watch him leave. He shoots you a half-glance over his shoulder as he walks through the front door, and you bite your tongue to keep traitorous words from slipping out. There's no room for things like be safe, or I'll miss you - not in this house.)

It's not the last fight you will have, although you don't know it that night. In fact, there will be plenty of time for duelling in the halls of Hogwarts, not to mention to the few times you see each other outside of school. What that night is, however, is the last fight you will have as brothers.

Because when Sirius walks away, you realise he's not just leaving the house and your crazy parents. No, he's leaving _you_ behind, giving up on _you_.

And just like that, with a click of the door, you've become just another person who has let him down.


End file.
